A Captain's Regret
by Ravenclaw Midnight Blue
Summary: In the first episode, Mainwaring declared himself Captain of the platoon being formed at Walmington-on-Sea. Later, it's revealed that he never had been an army officer, and so didn't have the authority to lead the men. So why did he do it? An imagined continuation from the episode 'Room At The Bottom'.


_Blurb:_ In the first episode, Mainwaring declared himself Captain of the platoon being formed at Walmington-on-Sea. Later, it's revealed that he never had been an army officer, and so didn't have the authority to lead the men. So why did he do it? An imagined continuation from the episode 'Room At The Bottom'.

 **A Captain's Regret**

In the first episode, Mainwaring declared himself Captain of the platoon being formed at Walmington-on-Sea. Later, in the TV episode 'Room At The Bottom', it's revealed that he never had been an army officer, and so didn't have the authority to lead the men. So why did he do it? An imagined continuation from the ending of 'Room At The Bottom'. Text in italics is taken directly from the end of that episode.

Disclaimer: Dad's Army and its characters are the property of the BBC, and were created by Jimmy Perry and David Croft. No money is being made from this story.

*0*0*0*0*

With Captain Bailey leaving, the Home Guard platoon was breaking up after offering their congratulations to the now-formally instated Captain Mainwaring. The evening sky was turning grey. Light clouds gradually masked the sun as it slowly sank towards the western horizon. In the distance, seagulls wheeled lazily in the sky, heading back to their nests on the coastal limestone cliffs on the edge of the town.

Mainwaring and Sergeant Wilson began to walk away from the men as they stood to talk in their groups around the yard of the church hall.

" _Well, a nasty business. But all's well that ends well," Mainwaring declared._

 _Wilson thought back to the day when he heard from Captain Bailey that Mainwaring's self-appointed rank of Captain of their platoon had no legitimacy behind it. "Yes. I must say it did have its funny side. When I got home I laughed and laughed…, and laughed."_

 _Mainwaring looked up at his second-in-command, his eyes narrowing. "Did you really?" he asked._

" _To think that all the time you were running things…," the sergeant guffawed, "…you had absolutely no authority over us at all!"_

 _Mainwaring chuckled in response. "Yes, I know. None whatsoever, had I? I hadn't even the authority to promote you to sergeant, had I?"_

 _This made Wilson stop in his tracks. He fell silent, his eyes rolling._

" _Still, I'm sure that everything will sort itself out, eventually," Mainwaring continued, his tone brightening a notch. "In the meantime, perhaps you care to borrow my penknife?"_

Wilson took it, and considered the Captain's pips on his shoulder lapels – temporarily conferred on him by Captain Bailey and the chain of command, whilst Mainwaring had been downgraded to Private for the last few days. He placed the penknife in a pocket – he would cut off the pips when he got home to the Pike household. In the meantime, there was another thought that he was more concerned with…

"So… Why did you do it?" he put to Mainwaring.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Wilson. Let's not talk about it, anymore…" He started to head towards the church hall. He wanted to read the latest reports and paperwork that Captain Bailey had just given him. Meanwhile, Lance Corporal Jones would soon be giving the patrols their allocated areas for the night. It was another evening after all, and it was business as usual – or what had now become usual ever since the war had begun…

But for once, Wilson wasn't going to be brushed aside so easily. He raised his voice. "I said… Why did you do it…, sir?"

Mainwaring froze. A moment later, he looked back at his sergeant whose expression seemed less languid than usual. Some of the Home Guard had paused in mid-conversation and were now staring at them, too. Frazer had a smirk on his face – and Mainwaring wondered if the Scotsman, like Wilson, had also been enjoying a long private chuckle at his expense during the last few days…

He tried to keep his voice calm and level. It wouldn't do to show too much annoyance in front of the men, not now that he had got what he wanted – a formal appointment to Captain. And that had been achieved thanks to them, after all….

"I've already explained the situation to Captain Bailey and the others in the chain of command. They're now perfectly happy for us to act as Captain and Sergeant of this platoon, Wilson."

"But you've not explained your earlier actions to _me_. Sir." Wilson's tone of voice was still smooth – but his eyes had a hint of defiance to them.

Mainwaring felt his face twitch uncomfortably. He huffed. "All right, Sergeant… Follow me."

*0*0*0*0*

Inside the Vicar's office, set to one side of the church hall, both Mainwaring and Wilson took their usual positions on either side of the Reverend's desk.

Before sitting down, however, the Captain had satisfied himself that no one was in the hall, listening in.

Now taking off his cap, Mainwaring leaned forwards on the desk upon his elbows, looking intently at Wilson.

"This conversation goes no further than between you and me. Is that understood, Sergeant?" he snapped.

Wilson briefly and languidly raised his hand as he leaned back in his chair. "Oh, of course, sir."

Mainwaring's gaze dropped to the desk in front of him. He found himself experiencing some difficulty looking Wilson in the eye as he talked. Occasionally, he managed it.

"As you now know, I've held no army commission before the war. To be more precise, I only managed to reach the rank of Lieutenant in the Great War – and I was in Germany after hostilities ended. I never saw…" He cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. "I never saw active combat, Wilson."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really. When I did go to Belgium, my company simply wasn't in the right place to join in the action. For some men, that's probably a relief – given how many soldiers lost their lives in that terrible conflict. But for me, it is embarrassing. How can I say that I've fought in the defence of my county, when I haven't actually fought at all?"

"Yes, I see, sir," Wilson replied sympathetically. "And when you decided you wanted to lead the Westgate Platoon for Walmington-on-Sea, what was your thinking then?"

The Captain paused, gathering his thoughts. "When… When the call went out across the nation to form Local Defence Volunteers, I saw an opportunity… An opportunity to do my bit for King and Country. I didn't consider my lack of officer experience. I just wanted to lead, to organize the men of this fine town – and be a source of hope in these dark times, to feel…"

"…important? Isn't being the bank manager of Walmington-on-Sea enough? You're in charge of several employees – including me and Frank, as it is."

"Well… Don't get me wrong. The job's all right. I take _some_ pride in my position. And you're not a bad bunch – jolly decent in fact… But that's not enough now that this country of ours is under threat of invasion."

"You still took it upon your own shoulders to make yourself Captain. If you will excuse me for being frank, even with your…tendency…to rush into a situation, sir, did you never think to declare to the chain of command that you had no previous officer experience? I just assumed that you had, since you seemed to have a way of…being in charge…of the men, once we had formed the platoon." Wilson spoke quietly, but he was feeling usually bold and he wanted to get to the bottom of the matter, whilst the iron was hot - so to speak. At the same time, he was rather glad that George Mainwaring was back in charge – after that recent _ghastly_ experience of the platoon on the training exercise, when he found his own leadership qualities under strain and he had led the men to an embarrassing failure.

Mind you, it hadn't been his fault that Lance-Corporal Jones had crouched upon an ants nest during the exercise, and exposed himself to the opposing army squad by hurriedly pulling off his trousers and flashing his long johns, in order to shake off the persistent insects…

Mainwaring's expression twitched. His gaze dropped to the table again, as he momentarily took off his round spectacles. "No, I didn't consider telling them."

"Well, if I had been in your position at the time, I would have asked myself: 'Do you think that's wise, Arthur?' But I'm not you. Did you think they would never check? Or did you _hope_ they wouldn't check, sir?"

"Oh, blast it, Wilson! "I didn't really think about it…, I suppose that I did just leap without…" The shorter man nervously ran a hand over his near-bald head, wiping away the sweat he could feel there. He forced himself to face his sergeant. "You think that I'm selfish, don't you, Wilson? That I'm pompous. I suppose the men think that too, after this regrettable incident."

Wilson tried not to roll his eyes. "Well, I couldn't really speak for the men, but _personally_ …"

"All right!" Mainwaring slammed a fist onto the corner of the table. "I'll admit it! When I appointed myself Captain, I was being selfish. I do regret that now. But it's not just about me. I did it because I believe myself to be the most capable local man to be in charge of the platoon. I did it because I _care_ about this town, its people. And I care about the safety of this country – our country."

Wilson gave Mainwaring's flushed face a long look. Silence filled the room. The sound of birdsong penetrated the small window nearby, as the evening continued to creep towards night time.

Sergeant Wilson then nodded his acknowledgement. "We all do, sir," he replied calmly.

"Yes, well… Seeing the men on drill, being put through their paces, completing the exercises the army throws at them, having them overcoming obstacles…. It makes me feel proud! It's the highlight of my day."

This time, Wilson did roll his eyes. He also coughed nervously at what he was about to say. "I can't help feeling, sir, that you really don't have an awfully happy marriage…"

The round face on the other side of the table flared with colour again. "That's enough impertinence from you, Wilson! You can't preach to me anything about marriage, given how you abandoned Mrs Pike at the altar – yet you still seem to live with…"

If Mainwaring was hoping to make his second-in-command lose his composure, he was to be disappointed - again. Instead, Wilson now seemed more interested in the state of his fingernails. "I was just making an observation, _sir._ Hardly preaching. Goodness, no! I leave that to our Reverend Farthing. But Mavis… _Mrs Pike_ …and I have made amends since, as you say, I left her at the altar. We have an agreement. Let's just leave it at that, shall we? I didn't mean to ruffle you – but I wanted us to be…well, on a level bearing with each other. Being the Captain here isn't really my cup of tea. At least you have the aptitude for it, sir. As well as the approval of our superiors, now."

Mainwaring took a few calming breaths. Something about Wilson's laid-back manner actually helped him to relax for once.

"All right. I won't pry into your domestic affairs, if you won't ask about my relationship with Elizabeth. And I don't blame you for wanting me to clear the air between us. I suppose… I suppose I would be demanding answers if someone else had done what I did. In the meantime, can we put this…oversight…over my previous lack of commission behind us? We still need to get on with the job together, after all. Both jobs, that is. At the bank – and here, with the platoon."

Wilson gave a smile. "Of course, Captain."

"I know we have our differences, Wilson. But I really am only trying to do my best. Maybe…" Mainwaring's gaze momentarily dropped to his cap on the desk before him. "Maybe it is a case of having to prove to myself, as well as to others, that I can be a good leader and a decent officer, ready for any invasion – or even facing up to the next German parachutist that we have to chase down. At least I'll have some experience of dealing with the enemy during hostilities in this war, I suppose…"

"I believe that the platoon will accept you, now that your rank has been approved, sir. This…slip…of yours will be forgotten about, in time."

Mainwaring gave a nervous cough and then stood up. "Then, if we understand each other, _Sergeant_ Wilson, let's bygones be bygones."

Wilson stretched out his long legs and rose to his feet. His lips rose as he took the gloved hand offered to him. "Do we have anything to drink to celebrate your official commission, sir?"

"No… I don't to hand…"

Abruptly, there was a knock at the door to Mainwaring's left – the door leading outside to the yard.

"Come in," the Captain announced briskly.

The elderly figure of Private Godfrey, still with his first aid kit strap slung over one shoulder, entered the vicar's study. He was promptly followed by the much younger and chirpier Private Walker, who was carrying a box in both hands as he whistled happily to himself. As he lowered it onto the corner of the desk, Mainwaring and Wilson could now see that the box contained a wine bottle, still chilled – and wrapped in tissues next to it were what had to be several wine glasses.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, gentlemen. I'm just helping Mr Walker in…with his delivery," Godfrey declared, his voice a little shaky - as it often was.

"Delivery? What's this, Walker?" Mainwaring raised his eyes to the Cockney spiv of the platoon, upon whom they relied upon for delivering items that had become luxuries with the onset of war and rationing. Little luxuries that did not come direct from the shops, but were more likely to have 'fallen from the back of a lorry' – even if the lorry had been stationary at the time…

"Err, well. I just thought you gentlemen would want to be celebrating, like – given that you're back in charge, Captain Mainwaring. So I rustled up something from my stores. If you could give me a few bob for expenses, I'd be…" Walker trailed off as he read the stony expression in the eyes of both his Captain and his Sergeant.

"Oh, alright. It's on the house," he grudgingly permitted them. "Just got the one bottle, mind."

"Well, that's awfully decent of you, Walker. And perfect timing, too," Wilson pointed out.

"Yes indeed," Mainwaring agreed. "What wine is it?"

"It's a French red wine, sir. Just a few years old. Got it from one of my suppliers."

"Well…, it'll do. Open it up, Walker. And perhaps since you and Godfrey are here, you'll both join me and Sergeant Wilson in a tipple?"

Godfrey's face lit up. "Oh, that would be wonderful!" he exclaimed.

Using the corkscrew he had placed in the box, Walker half-filled four glasses and passed them around to the other men.

Wilson raised his glass to the shaft of fading daylight that filtered into the room. "Your good health, Captain Mainwaring," he declared.

"Thank you, Wilson." Mainwaring's face flushed, this time with pleasure. He was now pleased that his admittedly-rash act of self-promotion so he could lead the men had now been settled. He wasn't sure that Elizabeth was going to let it pass so easily, mind…

He lifted his own glass into the air. "Here's to the health of the whole platoon."

"Hear, hear." And so all four of them sipped at their drinks.

Mainwaring licked his lips. "Hmm… That was rather good. I've tasted a number of French wines, but I don't think I have come across that one before. What part of France is it from, Walker?"

Picking up the bottle, Walker squinted his eyes.

"Erm… Difficult to say, Captain. Most of the label's been ripped off before I got this bottle, you see. Ah… Here's the name – Franconia. As I said – French wine! I won't worry 'bout which region…"

"Pity…" Mainwaring took a larger swig of the dry wine, and started to roll it in his mouth. Yes, he was finding it to be most agreeable…

Godfrey gave a sudden start, his face becoming animated. "Oh! I'm afraid you must be mistaken, Mr Walker. You see, I've come across that name before at a friend's wine and cheese party, before the war. Let's see… Yes! Franconia would be named after the Franks. It isn't a French wine – it's German!"

The sudden splutter went as far across the desk as to strike Walker in the face.

Startled, Wilson and Godfrey saw the wide eyes in Mainwaring's face glaring at Walker, as the latter quickly put down his glass and used his hands to wipe the red droplets dripping from his eyes and dark moustache.

" _Walker! You stupid…"_ Mainwaring paused, remembering that for once, he wasn't addressing young Frank Pike. _"…man."_

"Err… Sorry, Captain… Blimey! No wonder my supplier tinkered with the labels on that batch…"

THE END

Author's Note: Mainwaring confiding to Wilson that seeing the men on parade and drill, etc, is the highlight of his day, is based on a similar scene from another of the episodes. I've used it here, so that the meaning behind his statement can be touched upon.


End file.
